Reborn with Steve Stand

“Boss, please, listen to me first.”

On the deserted street, Mǎyù Líng tried to explain things to Fang Mo: “We really didn’t rob any bank…”

“Ah, sure, sure.”

Fang Mo nodded dismissively. “After all, you robbed an armored truck instead.”

“We didn’t rob the armored truck either!”

Hearing Fang Mo say that, Mǎyù Líng immediately corrected him: “I made sure to bring a ton of bills before we went out—why would we need to steal money?”

“And that money came from…where exactly?”

Fang Mo asked suddenly.

“Uh…probably the Xavier School’s public funds?”

“Expensing everything on the school’s dime, huh.”

Fang Mo sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Wait, no!”

Mǎyù Líng tried to explain: “I told Tethys to leave two pearls behind so they can profit if they want. Maybe they’ll actually make money from that.”

“Fine…”

Seeing her so insistent, Fang Mo didn’t bother to scold her further. After all, if that was the story, they indeed had no need to rob a bank, so maybe it was all just a misunderstanding.

“So what did happen?”

He asked at last.

“Well, it’s like this…”

Relieved by Fang Mo’s willingness to listen, Mǎyù Líng continued: “We genuinely just went out for fun. Since I’m the oldest si—um, boss lady here, I thought I’d show them around for some good food. But while we were eating, something happened.”

“What happened?”

Fang Mo asked curiously.

“It was that neutron–sword girl,”

Laevatein cut in. “We tried a coffee-flavored cake and found it tasty, so she bought one to bring back for you. But right after she paid, all hell broke loose.”

“Mm?”

Fang Mo glanced at the silent little girl standing aside, who had ash-gray “watermelon” hair.

“We were about to head home,”

Mǎyù Líng said, scratching her head, “but for some reason a shootout happened. We can’t figure out how that’s normal in the U.S.—someone was apparently trying to hijack an armored truck, and we got caught up in it.”

“One clueless idiot tried to grab her as a hostage,”

Laevatein added. “He yanked at the neutron girl but couldn’t budge her, got pissed, and kicked her—just so happened to send that cake flying.”

“Yes, exactly,”

Shizhenxiang chimed in, nodding. “We were watching the show and didn’t react at first, and you know how short that neutron-sword’s temper is. She punched that idiot to bits, then basically went on a rampage. Luckily, Senior Heaven quickly calmed her down… Otherwise, I guess New York might be gone by now…”

“Yep, that’s it.”

Tethys concurred. “So that’s roughly how things went.”

“Chii-chii!”

The little black cat also yowled.

“Jeez…”

Fang Mo’s thoughts wandered, unsure how to respond.

“We did move pretty quickly,”

the usually-silent Light Sword remarked. “The moment trouble started, the little scythe dashed in to save people…aside from those suicidal goons, the bystanders should be fine. Rest assured, Master.”

“Right.”

Mǎyù Líng nodded too. “We even picked up most of the money that got blown away.”

“…So you’re saying you’re helping with the aftermath?”

Hearing his “weapons” explain it this way, Fang Mo felt a bit surprised. Honestly, he’d expected pure chaos from them, given how he tended to do things, but they’d actually done pretty well. Sure, they trashed the street, but it was better than he’d feared.

“Well, yeah.”

Mǎyù Líng shrugged. “We’re not idiots. We know what our Boss likes.”

“Exactly.”

Laevatein nodded. “No matter what trouble we cause, we can’t go messing up the planet the Boss treasures. If this were that demon realm, I’d have wiped it out ages ago.”

“Yep!”

The young rainbow-haired girl chirped.

“Chii!”

the little black cat mewed softly.

Noticing that, the cat gave the ashen “watermelon-head” a tiny nudge, as if encouraging her to speak.

She pursed her lips and walked up to Fang Mo.

“Mistake.”

The small girl spoke, eyes downcast like a child in trouble. She wasn’t big on words, so she managed just two.

“…”

All the other weapons fell silent, anxiously watching Fang Mo’s reaction.

“Alright, it’s fine. Your intentions were good,”

Fang Mo said with a gentle smile, scooping her up under the arms as if picking up his daughter. “Whew—dang, you’re heavy.”

“See? I told you he wouldn’t be mad,”

Mǎyù Líng said with relief, glancing at the others. “Look at how panicked you were.”

“You sure you weren’t panicked?”

Laevatein promptly sniped back. “Who was it just now saying we should kneel and ‘milk the Boss’s balls’ or something to appease him?”

“T-that’s historically documented, okay!?”

Mǎyù Líng argued, “From Sugar Dynasty or something. If you messed up, you’d kneel and…um…milk your father’s balls to beg forgiveness. If you don’t know history, keep quiet.”

“Oh, please. You don’t know your own ‘history knowledge’ either.”

Laevatein scowled. “It’s Tang, not ‘Sugar’ [the literal Chinese word for sugar is ‘tang’].”

“Just a slip of the tongue.”

Mǎyù Líng shrugged, playing it off. “I obviously knew it was ‘Tang.’ I was just testing if you knew.”

“Ha! You’re the one who’s downright tang…like Trisomy T(ang) or something.”

Some unknown voice spat from the side.

“Wanna say that again!?”

Mǎyù Líng bristled. “If you want to diss me, that’s fine, but comparing me to mental disability!? I might just strangle you with my Blue Silver Grass!”

“?”

Laevatein blinked. “Huh? Who said that?”

“Er…”

Now it was Mǎyù Líng’s turn to be flustered. “Trisomy T—uh—Trisomy something? I…I forgot.”

“In just a few seconds, your insults have attained a new level.”

Even Fang Mo was cringing. He rubbed his forehead.

“I…”

“Alright, let’s wrap this up.”

Fang Mo waved a hand, cutting them off before they argued further. “You guys help anyone who’s still alive. The rest, we’ll leave for the President to handle. I’ll call him and let him tidy up.”

“Oh, call him to tidy up?”

Shizhenxiang brightened. “Neat!”

And thus, the fiasco ended. The street had taken serious damage, yes, but hopefully the police would arrive soon. Fang Mo couldn’t be bothered any longer. He opened another portal, and everyone returned to Xavier’s School in short order.

Back at the mansion, Charles asked about the situation. Fang Mo told him not to worry; he’d handle it. Then Fang Mo indeed phoned the President and briefly explained, without mentioning those girls were “his weapons.” He merely said they were part of his group and a little misunderstanding happened; please sort it out.

Since the U.S. President was currently in a collaboration—and arguably a “honeymoon phase”—with Fang Mo, it was no big deal. They hadn’t blown up the entire city, just an armed robbery interfering with them, so they “accidentally” destroyed one street. At worst, the President would wave it off as a “gas explosion.”

But after sorting that out, the President didn’t hang up. He wanted to continue discussing the “Awakening Serum.” As mentioned, the formula contained traces of “Chemical X.” Although only a minuscule amount, it was indispensable. And since “Chemical X” was Fang Mo’s personal monopoly, that gave him an ironclad lock on the entire “superpower business”—the sum of money that might rake in was beyond imagining.

A normal person would have reaped insane profits. But Fang Mo didn’t lack money. He’d never be short of wealth—there were literal mountains of gold in his domain, requiring special “resonant storage chests” with expansions. Last time he’d gone home, Xiaoyao had begun compressing it into “metal singularities.” So Fang Mo wave his hand, saying they could keep the vast majority of revenue, with the remainder forming a “mutant foundation” or something. He didn’t care.

That made the President ecstatic and deepened their bond. Before Fang Mo could suggest it himself, the President brought up building a headquarters tower in the best part of New York—for free. After all, with the abilities he’d gained from “Apocalypse,” it wasn’t too hard to raise a tower discreetly—assuming no one discovered it prematurely. He even hinted about offering Fang Mo a private island to strengthen ties, but Fang Mo politely refused.

They talked for a while, giving Fang Mo an odd sense of “chitchatting with a girlfriend.”

Eventually, his disinterest became obvious, and the President hung up, letting Fang Mo breathe a sigh of relief.

“Whew…”

After putting down the phone, Fang Mo felt a wave of exhaustion.

“Boss?”

Just then, Mǎyù Líng poked her head in from the door. “Done with the call?”

“Mm.”

Fang Mo massaged his temples. “Between presidents, I think I preferred the chat with Nya. This one didn’t get any of my jokes…”

“Where are the others?

He asked.

“They’re in the kitchen.”

Mǎyù Líng came in, “They said something about that cake. They ran into Raven when we got back, and apparently she knows a bit about baking. So now they’ve dragged her into the kitchen…”

“And Old Feng?”

Fang Mo asked.

“Relax,”

Mǎyù Líng giggled. “That guy’s banned from the kitchen.”

“That’s a relief…”

Fang Mo exhaled. But before he could finish, a flurry of footsteps arose outside, and the other swords piled into the room.

“Boss, boss! Look, cake!”

Laevatein rushed in first, happily shoving Mǎyù Líng aside. “We made it ourselves, come on, try it while it’s fresh!”

“Huh?”

Hearing that, Fang Mo turned toward them. He saw the neutron-sword “Cinder-loli” carrying a plate with a small, crooked chunk of cake, topped with a squirt of cream.

“Still fixated on that cake, huh…”

Seeing how they’d taken such trouble just for him, Fang Mo couldn’t help feeling pleased. He had thought they were all ticking time bombs, but they actually cared about him. He grinned, picking up a fork to sample the piece. No reason to spoil their good intentions.

The cake itself was very dry, with a strong coffee flavor. Probably the heat was off, so after two bites, Fang Mo felt parched, though it was still edible if he got a drink.

“Here, Boss, have a drink.”

Somebody spotted his difficulty and offered him a cup of liquid.

“Oh, thanks.”

Fang Mo nodded and brought it to his lips. Immediately, he caught a strange fishy-bitter smell.

He peeked inside and saw a lump of gooey, translucent fluid.

“What the hell is this?”

he demanded.

“Aloe juice,”

Shizhenxiang beamed, “I made it myself, Boss!”

“…”

And at that moment, Fang Mo’s smile disappeared from his face.